The Best Minds in London
by The Ginger Midget
Summary: Sherlock (and to some extent, John) are recruited by MI6 to help stop an enemy that no one man-or in this case, agent- can stop on his own. Add a young, somewhat arrogant Quartemaster and his American girlfriend to the mix, and it's going to be one bumpy ride. No slash. Q/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey oh! This is my first crossover, and I'm eager to see what you guys think. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond or Sherlock.**

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They stood in a line, all six of them. They had their hands handcuffed behind their backs. They were about to be shot.

The government agent stood stock-still, his eyes riveted on the gun in front of him. He had starred down the barrels of guns before, but he had always had a plan of what to do next. Now, there wasn't a plan. This was the end.

The inventor was standing next to the agent. His eyes kept darting around the room, and kept falling on the woman standing next to him. Unlike the agent, his mind was going at one hundred miles an hour. He was trying to figure out a way, anyway, that they could be saved. His fingers were twitching. It was a nervous habit of his.

The woman felt sick to her stomach. Here she was, starring down the barrel of a gun, and she wasn't even twenty-five. This wasn't right. There was still so much she wanted to do, there was still so much that she had to tell him. She found a certain irony in the way she was about to die.

The doctor was standing up very straight with a determined look in his eye. If he was going to die, he was going to do it like a man. His only regret was that he hadn't found anyone to share his life with, and the detective didn't count.

The detective's facial expression was blank. He surreptitiously looked toward the rafters, searching for something to use as a distraction. He didn't see anything. He sighed. Dying by a gunshot wasn't the most glamorous way to go. Or the cleanest. Or the most painless, depending where they aimed. Probably the heart, then it would be only take them 2.3 seconds to die. Of course, being shot in the stomach would be much more painful, and therefore, slower. Yes, they were going to be shot in the stomach. He tensed himself for impact.

The morgue technician, who was at the other end of the line, was positively terrified. She wasn't supposed to be here! She didn't even know half of these people! Whatever was going on, it didn't involve her. She sniffed. She didn't understand. She just wanted to go home.

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**Well, what did you think? Tell me in that great big box below!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! For this chapter (and the rest of the story), I am invoking my dramatic license and raising Judy Dench's M from the dead. I hop your all okay with that.**

**This is a long one, so get ready.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond and Sherlock.**

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"Sherlock, the car's here!" John yelled as he looked out the window. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it.

Sherlock wandered in from his room, wearing a blue, long-sleeved shirt and black pants. The buttons traveling up his chest wear nearly popping at the seams.

He looked around the room. "Do you know where my charger's gotten too?"

John looked at him. "Charger? What do you need your charger for? We're leaving."

Sherlock gave him a quizzical look. "Leaving? For where?"

John sighed. He knew Sherlock was playing dumb because he didn't want to go. "For MI6."

Yesterday, Mycroft had stopped by to deliver some news. Sherlock, who had just finished up a case early that morning, was already in bed. So Mycroft had to deliver the news to John.

"He's wanted at MI6," he had said. "Actually, you're both wanted."

John had frowned, wrinkled his brow, and had clutched his mug of tea tighter. "What for?"

"She didn't say." Mycroft said, studying the end of his umbrella. "But then again, I didn't ask."

John thought it was strange that he didn't know what was going on. "Who's this 'she'?"

"M." Mycroft pressed his lips together. "She's the director of MI6."

"And she needs _our help?_"

"Yes."

'With what?"

"I don't know," he said again, looking at the other end of his umbrella. "She's sending a car for you tomorrow morning. Be a good lad and make sure Sherlock is ready on time, would you?" Mycroft gave John one of his cool, frosted smiles. "I'll show myself out."

That had been yesterday morning. When John had told Sherlock, he had groaned and muttered something about "doing Mycroft a favor." Now, it appeared that he was just avoiding it all together.

"Sherlock, you need to go. Mycroft's expecting you to show up." John paused. "Besides, the case could be something obnoxiously simple. The solution could be something that they didn't catch."

Sherlock starred at the floor, thinking it over. John knew how much Sherlock liked to prove people wrong, especially when it involved something "obvious." Sherlock smirked, imagining the reaction when he pointed out how obvious something was. John shifted his position.

Sherlock suddenly sprang to life and bounded over to the closet to grab his coat. "Come along John!" he yelled, coat swirling about as the detective traveled across the room. "We don't want to keep M waiting!"

The car that took them to MI6 was black and nondescript; it was very similar to Mycroft's. _ Heck_, John thought. _It could very well be Mycroft's car._ The car wove through traffic and ended up going down a tunnel to what seemed to be an underground parking garage. Except that it wasn't. It was far more than that.

When MI6 had gotten attacked, there had been some major speculation on the media's part of where it had been relocated to. Of course, the new location had never been revealed. As the car went further underground and stopped in a concrete cavern, John realized where he was.

After going through security, much to Sherlock's annoyance, ("Yes, that's knife! It's for a case; a man's life depends on it!) a young African woman escorted them to M's office. The office had glass walls on three sides, and had very few furnishings. The only things there were a desk with a glass top, three black chairs, a file cabinet, a floor lamp, and some potted plants. The only notable and seemingly out of place item on the desk was a china figure of an English Bulldog draped in the United Kingdom's flag.

M herself was a bit surprising. John hadn't known what to expect, but he hadn't been expecting this.

She was old, upwards of fifty, if John was correct. She was short, and petite, but carried herself with such authority and conviction, that John felt a bit intimidated by her. Her eyes were dark and hard, and her face was lined with wrinkles.

"Gentlemen," she said, standing in front of them. "Thank you for coming. Please," she gestured to her desk and the two chairs in front of it. "Have a seat."

"The case I have requested you for is very . . . unnerving." M said once they were settled. "The man we are looking for has severely wounded three agents in the past two months and has kidnapped a fourth. I have put all of my top agents on his trail-"

"Wrong."

M looked at Sherlock. "I beg your pardon?"

"You haven't sent your top agent after him because you're fond of him and because you know that he'll go anyway, even if you told him that it's too dangerous for him to go alone. Not only that, but you lost track of this man, and you haven't told anyone yet for fear of embarrassment."

There was a pause. John closed his eyes out of annoyance, embarrassment, and frustration.

M did not deny these truths. Nor did she ask for an explanation of how Sherlock had come to those conclusions. She simply sighed and said "You're right, Sherlock. I have lost track of him and it's too dangerous to send Bond out there alone. That's why I need your help."

"Wait, how do you know his name?" John asked.

"Mycroft recommended that I talk to you two."

Sherlock frowned disapprovingly.

"I encourage you to hear me out before you make your decision. I'm going to introduce you to the other members of the group involved, and then give a better explanation of the matter at hand."

M stood up and straightened her jacket. "Well, are you ready?"

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**In the next chapter, you'll meet Q's girlfriend, and Sherlock and John meet Q and Bond. I hope to hear from you guys in the meantime!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter! I had so much fun writing this one! I'm introducing my OC in this one. I can't for you guys to meet her! **

**Sit back and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock and James Bond.**

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M led them through MI6, telling them that the first person they were going to meet was "MI6's best hacker." Sherlock sniffed, deciding to believe when he saw it.

Their final destination was a desk situated in the center of a balcony that overlooked what M said was Q Branch. Where M's desk had been clean and neat, this desk was cluttered and used the system of "organized chaos." The computer – the latest model, Sherlock noted – took up most of the space. Lined along the front of the desk were coffee mugs, filled with various pencils, pens, highlighters, and who knows what else. The mugs themselves did not match in anyway, except that they were more or less the same height. One mug, Sherlock noted, was white and had black calligraphy printed on it. Another mug had a landscape photo; another mug was just plain red. There was a small American flag sticking jauntily out of one mug.

There was a girl sitting at the desk. She was wearing a loose, white t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of glasses with brown plastic frames. She was talking on the phone. Sherlock noticed that her desk was covered in papers and sticky notes.

"I _swear_ I didn't do it this time," she was saying. "Have you checked from where the signal came from? . . . Well, you better it, then." The girl glanced to the side and saw M standing there with Sherlock and John. "Alright, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, Janet. Bye." She hung up the phone, took a sip of coffee from a writing-utensil-free mug, and stood up.

Sherlock studied her. _She's an American,_ he deduced. _From California, in the Silicon Valley. She lives alone in a flat that's a thirty minute tube ride from here. She is dating someone from MI6; someone in a position of power . . . _His thought process was cut off by M's talking.

"Gentlemen, this is Lilly Houston. Lilly, this is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. They're going to be helping us with Brian."

The three of them shook hands. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," said Lilly.

_She doesn't follow us._

"Well, welcome to MI6," she said, smiling and giving a little shrug of her shoulders.  
"Hope you enjoy your stay."

"What's that supposed to mean?" John asked.

"Lilly means that your position here would be temporary." She shot Lilly a look. "If you decide to take the job.

"Well, now you have to meet our quartermaster-"

"Q?" Lilly said. "He's at the shooting range with Bond. They're testing out some new weapons."

Sherlock's eyebrows went up when he read her expression. _So, _this_ is Q's girlfriend._

"Thank you Lilly." M turned to her guests. "Follow me."

Lilly took one last sip of coffee before joining them.

The foursome wove through the underground maze that was MI6. John asked questions to Lilly and M, about what they did, and the facilities, and things like that. Sherlock stayed quiet.

When they did get to the shooting range, they had to wait for the tests to finish up. Then they were admitted.

There were two figures standing in the middle of the shooting range. They were about the same height, but the one on the left was considerably older than the one on the right. The man on the right was wearing long grey trousers and a mouse-brown cardigan. He had black curly hair and was wearing silver wire-frame glasses. The man on the left had cropped hair of no discernible colour and was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. As M, Lilly, Sherlock and John got closer, they could hear the curly-haired man say "And be sure to bring it back this time, would you?"

M cleared her throat. "Gentlemen," she said. "This is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. They're going to be working with you two on the Brian case."

The man in the leather jacket stepped forward and extended his hand. "The name's Bond. James Bond." He and John shook hands.

Sherlock regarded the other man coolly. "Q," he said.

"Sherlock," Q returned.

"Wait." Lilly looked at them with a confused look on her face. "You two know each other?"

"It's a bit more than that." Q said, starring at and fiddling with the pistol he was holding. "We're cousins."

This statement seemed to shock everyone in the group, excluding M and the two involved.

"C-cousins. Wow. Really?" John babbled, and directed this last question at Sherlock.

"Glad to see you're not the only one left, mate," said Bond, clapping Q on the back.

"All right!" M said. "Now that you're all acquainted, we can discuss this case _in detail_." She eyed all of them. "If you could please follow me." M turned around. Sherlock, John, and Bond followed her.

Lilly stayed behind while Q gathered his stuff. The pair brought up the rear.

"You never told me you had a cousin," she said.

Q shifted his things around in his arms. "'You never asked."

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**So, what do think? Drop me a line, I would love to hear from you guys!**


	4. Chapter 4

**In this chapter: there are a lot of pauses. Weird. **

**This isn't a long chapter, but a chapter nonetheless.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond and Sherlock.**

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M led them to a conference room in another part of MI6. M stood at the head of the table. Bond sat down on the left side with Sherlock and John. Q and Lilly sat together on the right.

M passed out manila file folders to everyone before beginning. She took a deep breath. "I've brought you all here to discuss Brain McNeely."

No one said anything.

"As you know, Brain has seriously compromised us. To send in someone alone, as we have done before," she gave Bond a look. "Has only proven futile." M swallowed. "That's why I'm considering sending all of you in."

There was a slight pause. "Wait, _all_ of us in?" Lilly asked.

"Possibly. I'm not sure yet."

Q frowned.

"Anyway, there's a bigger problem we have to discuss."

"What's that?" asked Bond, leaning leisurely back in his chair.

"She's lost track of him," said Sherlock.

This time there was a longer pause.

"You're joking," said Q, boring his gaze into Sherlock.

"No, no, he's telling the truth," said M. "I'm afraid we've lost any means of tracking him."

"Cell phone number?" asked Lilly.

"Disposable."

"Credit card number?"

"Cancelled?"

"How did this happen?' Q asked.

"I'm not quite sure. I'm having Intel look into it right now."

"Unless it's someone from the inside." John said.

Everyone looked at John. M tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well, someone could be leaking information to him, telling him what you're doing."

"No," said Sherlock. "No, that's not it." He leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. "He is doing it some other way . . ."

"Is 014 still in captivity, mum?" Bond asked M.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Then shouldn't someone go save her . . . or something?" John asked.

"Well, we can't really do that without knowing where he is and having nothing to track him down with," said Lilly.

"John and I will help," said Sherlock.

"You will?" said M with a look of pure elation on her face.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," said M.

"A young lady stepped in. "Pardon me, mum. Q, we're having some problems in-"

"With what?" Q snapped.

"The master server." The young lady seemed to shrink.

Q sighed, rolled his eyes, and then stood up with the file folder. He strided toward her. "I thought I said not to mess with it." He walked out of the room and yanked the door shut behind him.

"Well," said Bond. "Looks like I'm not needed here anymore." Bond stood up and stretched.

M turned to Sherlock. "You and Lilly will be working together," she said.

"I work alone." Sherlock stood up, opened the door, and walked out of the room.

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**I hope you guys enjoyed! Tell me what you think of it all so far!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait, things got busy and I didn't have a lot of free time on my hands. My plan is to update as much as I can in the next two weeks before school starts. **

**I've been stalling long enough. Have fun!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock and James Bond**

A few days later, Bond walked through MI6. He was planning to bother Q, since he was waiting for news about the whereabouts of Brian. However, Q seemed to be avoiding him, so he decided to bother Lilly instead. She was Q's girlfriend after all.

"Hey Lil," James said, leaning up against Lilly's desk. "Have you heard from our detective yet?"

Lilly shook her head. "No. I have his phone number, and his e-mail, and web address-"

"He has a website?'

Lilly glanced at him. "Yeah . . . Anyway, he hasn't answered any of my messages. I don't know if Q has made any progress." She started to answer an e-mail.

James eyed her. "So . . . I was wonderin' if you wanted to catch a drink with me later tonight."

"Bond, you know I'm dating Q."

He moved around the corner of the desk and propped himself up on the edge of the front of the desk. "So, he won't mind." He chuckled. "He can't get _that_ mad, can he?"

Lilly stopped typing and gave him a look. "Are you willing to face the consequences if I do go out with you?"

Bond thought for a moment. Q wasn't a vengeful man. When he wanted to get revenge, which wasn't often, he usually just sent a virus to the person's computer. Then the person would come crawling back to Q when they couldn't fix it themselves. Q would tap a few keys and the virus would be gone.

Even Lilly had developed a reputation: she would somehow procure a cell phone (by legal or illegal means) and change the ring tone. She would usually change it to something American, and possibly annoying, depending on her mood. Mallory's "Call Me Maybe" attack during a meeting with the Prime Minister was still talked about.

Taking all of this into consideration, Bond shook his head. It was just better to leave the two techno-nerds to their courtship, however unlikely it may seem.

Lilly smiled. "Thanks Bond."

There was a sudden pounding of feet on the linoleum. Bond looked up and Lilly turned around to see Sherlock and John running up to them.

"I've found where Brain is!" Sherlock called across the way.

"Cool!" Lilly called back. "How?"

By this time, Sherlock and John had reached Lilly's desk. "Homeless network." Sherlock said.

"Homeless network?"

John shook his head. "Don't ask."

"Oh." Lilly frowned. "So did you tell Q?"

"He told me," said Q, walking over to the group. He was carrying a tablet. "I've already found the place and pulled up the floor plans." He handed the tablet to Lilly.

Q had more than just the floor plans. It was a digital, 3D floor plan of an old manufacturing building.

"In the folder that M gave us," began Sherlock. "Which I'm sure none of you _really _looked at."

The employees of MI6 gave him a disdainful look.

"There was a list of properties that Mr. McNeely owns. This one used to be the manufacturing plant of bed linens during the Industrial Revolution. It was converted to a uniform factory during World War I, and closed shortly after. It's the only property on the list that's not occupied."

There was a pause as this information sunk in. Lilly expanded, shrank, and turned the image on the screen. Q placed his hand on the back of her chair and crossed one foot over the other, effectively propping himself up so he could watch his girlfriend. James looked over Lilly's head and Q's shoulder to see what Lilly was doing.

"Looks like it's in East End." James said.

"Yeah," said Lilly. "It is."

"Right." James clapped Q on the shoulder and turned away.

"Wait, where are you going?" Q asked.

"To get Brian."

"But you can't go alone!" Q yelled. "It's too dangerous!"

"Never stopped me before!"

"Bond!" Q cupped his hands around his mouth. "BOND!"

Bond kept walking away and didn't respond.

Q turned around. "Wonderful."

Lilly, who had been watching their exchange, turned to face Sherlock and John. "You guys _have to_ go after him. If M finds out that he went alone, we'll both get in _huge_ trouble."

"Mostly me," Q muttered.

"Are-are we allowed to?" John asked.

"You're working for MI6 now, aren't you?" Lilly said and shrank the image on the tablet. "Hey. There looks like there's something underneath the building."

Q took the tablet from Lilly. He moved the mage around with his fingers. "It looks like it's an old tube station." He paused. "It was closed in the forties because of flooding."

"Does Bond know about this?"

"Probably not." Q and Lilly gave each other a look.

"I'll go work on this." Q said, body twitching now with the sense that a mission had to be formed. "You get them supplies." The quartermaster hurried away.

"Do you guys have weapons?" Lilly asked as she turned to her computer.

Sherlock snorted. "Of course."

"Go get them. And bring extra ammo." Lilly paused. "And guys?"

"Yeah?" John said.

"Wrap up any unfinished business you may have."

"Why?"

"No one said you would come back alive."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock and James Bond.**

When John and Sherlock returned, most of the employees were gone. John had thought that running MI6 was a full-time operation, but he was apparently wrong.

Lilly and Q had set up camp on Q's desk. The entire thing was taken over by computer monitor and wires and cords. The wall of screens behind them were either blank, or had flickering images on them.

Q waved John over to Lilly. Lilly was studying her computer screen and saw John out of the corner of her eye. "Do you have your weapon?"

John nodded, and opened up his jacket so she could the see the butt of his pistol sticking out of his holster.

Lilly smiled. "Then let's get started."

Once John was seated, Lilly pulled out a yellowish piece of rubber with a round knob at one end. "What's that?" John asked.

"It's an adjustable earpiece," said Lilly. "It's flexible, so one size fits all. And the material that it's made out of is invisible up against the skin, so it's virtually undetectable." She paused. "Q invented it."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

"Hey. It's his job." Lilly gave John a look. "I can't help but brag about it." She finished adjusting the earpiece around John's ear. "There. All done."

Lilly turned back to the desk. John lowered his voice. "Did you hear from Bond yet?"

Lilly shook her head. "No." She looked at John. "That worries me."

On the other side of the desk, Q was fitting Sherlock with _his_ earpiece.

"Now don't get cocky and blow me off. I know what I'm doing, and there's a GPS in the earpiece, so I _will_ find you, understand?" Q said.

Sherlock sniffed. "I don't see why you bother with this thing anyway."

"Standard procedure. Besides, if I didn't, your brother would have my head."

"And what a shame that would be."

"Yo, Q! Is he ready yet?" asked Lilly.

Q scanned Sherlock up and down. "Yes. He's ready."

"Great!" Lilly stood up. "You two, follow me."

Lilly led them around the corner and past another work area to a door that seamlessly blended in with the décor.

"You're going to go down this corridor," Lilly said. "Q and I will be with you every step of the way." She gave them a lack-luster smile. "Ready?"

She unlocked the door and yanked it open. Sherlock walked in first, and John followed.

"Good luck," said Lilly. She shut the door.

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**So, have any of you seen _The Book Thief _trailer?**


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